


I Miss You

by MKittyUltra, PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble



Series: Promise You'll Write [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, WW2 AU, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKittyUltra/pseuds/MKittyUltra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble/pseuds/PollyMajor_AKA_ughvengersassemble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of 'Promise You'll Write' as requested by another anonymous tumblr user!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Miss You

It had taken a few weeks for Dean to even begin to adjust to Cas not being there. The hardest is the mornings, because during the week Cas would get up before him to dress for work, so Dean was used to waking up to an empty bed. That meant it took until he was in the kitchen for Cas’ absence to really hit, the hollowness of the flat without him in it, the hollowness of Dean. He’d make his breakfast and the cutlery would clink against the plate and echo in the vast space where Cas wasn’t, right through Dean. It made his teeth hurt. 

He’s started drinking tea, which he’s never done before, because the taste of it brings back the wet tingle of Cas’ kiss, the one he’d given him before they’d left the house that morning and he’d walked him to the bus. Dean refused to think of it as ‘the last kiss’, because that implies there won’t be anymore, and Dean can’t entertain a thought like that even for a moment. 

He sits at the kitchen table, sipping tea from Cas’ favorite mug - a spindly yellow thing that he insisted Dean repair when he dropped it rather than throw it out - and smooths his hand over Cas’ letters. They’d come quick and numerous at first, when he was still at the camp in the US. He was unhappy, it seemed, but Dean didn’t blame him.  _Dean_  was unhappy about it and he wasn’t even the one being forced to fight - a problem with his heart, they said. A murmur. They wouldn’t have him and he damn well wasn’t going to force them to take him. By the time Cas was due to be shipped out he seemed to have reasoned that there was no point being miserable about the situation, and the tone of the letters had shifted from one of lamentation to determination. It was frightening. 

When he found out he wasn’t going to Germany at all, but to Japan, he’d told Dean in his letter that they have all sorts of interesting teas there so it was better, he’d supposed, and in his reply Dean had asked if he’d tried any of them yet, but Cas didn’t seem to pick up on that. There were black lines through some of the paragraphs, and the few words Dean could see were jumbled together and scarcely made sense. The ones that followed were the same, black lines and mangled sentences, bastardized versions of the letters Dean could imagine Cas sitting and penning, hunched over some crate in candle light.

He knew that they couldn’t write ‘I love you’ in their letters, so Dean just wrote ‘I miss you’ and hoped Cas would read it as love, the way he read the touch of Dean’s foot against his shin as a kiss when they were in public, how he always heard the silent ‘in love’ when Dean said ‘he drives me crazy’. 

Every time it seemed the letters got shorter and shorter, and Dean suspected that there was less and less that Cas could say. This one, its envelope crinkled and dirty, torn messily and resealed by censor forty three, was the shortest yet. Just two sentences, one of them scratched out. “I miss you,” Dean reads aloud again. “I miss you.”


End file.
